


What little time we have left (I want to spend it with you)

by polymona



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ducks, Fluff, Gabriel is an ass, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), It all works out in the end I promise maybe, Kissing, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-10 21:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19516222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polymona/pseuds/polymona
Summary: Just as Aziraphale and Crowley thought things were settled with heaven and hell, they were caught off guard in the bookshop by both Gabriel and Beelzebub.“Did you really think we wouldn’t work out your little trick eventually?”Aziraphale and Crowley are sentenced to live (and possibly die) as humans. And along the way, do things as humans do.





	1. Human

**Author's Note:**

> Filled half from a prompt I wrote for myself and also ellicler's mortals!AU prompt on tumblr.

  
They came for the rogue angel and demon in the middle of the night, when they knew they’d be alone together and drunk on wine in the bookshop. Aziraphale and Crowley had little time to sober up when the forces of both heaven and hell unexpectedly busted in on them. The two struggled as they were forcefully separated from each other and removed from their previous spot on the sofa.

“Cuddle time’s over,” Beelzebub hissed, tossing the serpent’s sunglasses to the floor and crushing them.

Aziraphale and Crowley were quickly bound and forced to their knees in front of Gabriel.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t work out your little trick eventually?” the archangel said smugly.

The two captives exchanged worried glances. Their eyes told each other everything they needed to know. Crowley growled at their captors, yelling muffled obscenities against the bindings that covered his mouth.

“That’s it, that’s the look right there!” Gabriel laughed, pointing at the serpentine eyes currently giving him an intense glare of death. “I should have known then, that it was you in there, instead of tubby, here.”

Aziraphale furrowed his brow and looked down at the floor. At the look of hurt that crossed his angel’s face, Crowley broke one arm free far enough to get one punch into his demonic captors before Dagon promptly slammed a stray book into Crowley’s head, allowing their forces to regain their grip on him.

Suddenly the sound of shuffling, shelves being knocked, and books falling snapped Aziraphale’s attention to behind the archangel. Several agents of above and below had pulled the bookshop’s large floor rug out of the way, revealing remnants of the circle he had used to summon the Metatron. Crowley tried to crane his neck over to see what his angel was looking at.

“Oh, you’ll love this,” Gabriel began, almost skipping with sinister glee. “We thought up the perfect punishment to get the both of you out of our hair-permanently.”

Aziraphale watched, wide-eyed as Beelzebub approached the circle and began adding markings he had never seen before. Meanwhile, Crowley was still caught up on the archangel’s words. _Permanently_. He struggled harder against his bonds, yelling muffled words that Aziraphale could not hear, to no end.

“This should work no matter whose face they decide to wear,” the Lord of Flies added, stepping away and handing off the chalk to Gabriel who then headed to the circle to make the last final touches of his own.

With the intricate drawing finished and the candles carefully arranged just waiting to be lit, the archangel clapped his hands together and smiled down at his captives.

“Who wants to go first?”

The archangel hummed to himself, some tune from The Sound of Music, pointing his finger, moving it back and forth between the captive angel and demon indecisively.

"You," Gabriel said pointedly, finally settling on Aziraphale.

Crowley screamed muffled obscenities, held back by his demonic captors, as he watched the archangel's agents start to drag Aziraphale towards the circle.

"Oh, and ditch the gags," the archangel added, "I want to hear this part."

Beelzebub raised an eyebrow at that, and nodded approvingly.

"Fuck. You." Crowley growled as soon as his mouth was free.

"Crowley," Aziraphale called out, struggling to look back.

"Aziraphale!" The demon replied. "No- what are you doing? Don't you touch him!"

As he was forced to lie down face first in the circle, Aziraphale pleaded, "are you quite sure we couldn't come to some- arrangement?"

In response, Gabriel grinned and snapped his fingers, immediately lighting up all the candles.

"No!" Crowley yelled desperately, as the portal activated.

"Hold him down," the archangel instructed, as his forces tightened their grips on each of Aziraphale's limbs, pinning him to the floor.

As he began to glow, Aziraphale managed to look up at Crowley, meeting his eyes.

"Crowley- I love you."

"AZIRAPHALE!"

Aziraphale cried out as the beam of light tried and failed to pull him upwards, the other angels holding him firmly to the ground. He felt like he was being ripped in two.

Crowley stared as Aziraphale's wings were forcefully pulled forth. But they appeared wrong, see-through and not fully on this plane.

The angel felt like his soul was being torn from his vessel, wings first. Crowley gaped helplessly as the angel's wings, attached to a translucent glowing form fully lifted out of Aziraphale's body. But its face was formless and blank. It beat its wings twice upwards, disappearing in a blink of light.

Beelzebub snapped at the candles, and the portal went dark.

Aziraphale lay motionless.

"Angel?" Serpentine eyes cried pitifully, "what did you do? What did you _do_?!"

A choked cough broke the silence. The other angels backed away slightly as a very pale Aziraphale managed to roll onto his side, coughing and wheezing, struggling to breathe.

"Next!" Gabriel commanded.

Aziraphale was briefly aware as hands took hold of him and dragged him out of the circle, leaving him haphazardly on the floor against a pile of his own books.

The Lord of Flies waved the other demons over.

"Bastards! All of you!" Crowley hissed as he was tossed into the circle.

Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered as he drifted in and out of consciousness. From the corner of his eye he caught the light of the portal once again illuminating the room.

“Oh dear,” he breathed, lifting his head up in time to see the outline of a great glowing winged serpent being pulled from Crowley’s back, little by little. Once free, it drifted away from the light and dove into the ground, disappearing. The bookshop fell dark once again.

Crowley groaned, eyes screwed shut, crawling out of the circle towards where Aziraphale lay.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said hoarsely, reaching out to touch his demon’s face, “your snake tattoo. It’s gone.”

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, who gasped.

“Crowley- your eyes-”

While still an almost otherworldly amber color, their serpentine nature was gone. His eyes were almost- _human_.

In the background, the heavenly and hellish invaders were already starting to make their exit. Only Gabriel and Beelzebub remained.

“What did you do?” Aziraphale demanded, wide-eyed.

“Your immortal souls have been split,” Gabriel explained with self-satisfied smugness, “your wings, your divine and demonic natures have been sealed away out of reach.”

“We figured,” Beelzebub added, “you love humanity so much, go suffer and die as they do.”

“Have fun playing house for the next fifty or so odd years-if you are lucky,” the archangel said, heading towards the exit. “Meanwhile, we’ve got to go plan the next Apocalypse-might take another few thousand years no thanks to you two.”  
  
The Lord of Flies already having made their way out, Gabriel popped his head back inside the bookshop to add one more thing to the two bewildered now-humans.

“I am so looking forward to never seeing either of you again.”

  
  
~*~

  
  
The first to attempt to pick himself up off of the floor was Aziraphale. He wobbled unsteadily, grasping onto a nearby bookshelf, not used to the weight of his wings not being there. Crowley groaned, rubbing at his unfamiliar eyes. The once angel helped the former serpent up, and they both balanced against each other as they tentatively made their way to the sofa.  
  
They both sat there like that in shock for a bit, staring, not really saying anything. Finally Crowley thought to fish out a bottle of wine from between the cushions, where it has slipped off to in the previous commotion. He offered it to Aziraphale who immediately accepted, taking a long drink straight from the bottle. Crowley then looked about searchingly and leaned over to gather some wine glasses that had fallen behind the sofa. They were chipped and dusty, but still usable.  
  
The once demon caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass and winced. Had he imagined it, Crowley wondered, looking up at his angel, that in what might of been his last moments, Aziraphale had called out his name and confessed that he loved him.

  
  
~’*’~

  
  
"I can feel this body dying," Crowley said at length, pouring them both yet another glass of wine. "Every cell slowly aging. Every heartbeat sending us closer to the- to the abyss."  
  
Aziraphale sipped at his glass, as the former demon continued ranting.  
  
"What happens- what happens when we get discorporated-er die? Do our souls rejoin together? Do we cease to exist? Wha-"  
  
"Now we really sound human," the once angel replied, smiling sadly.  
  
"And-and- why are you smiling?" Crowley complained, gesturing wildly.  
  
"We're still here- together- aren't we?" Aziraphale offered slowly. "It could have been much worse, my dear. And, Gabriel did say we'd never see their lot again."  
  
"But there was supposed to be time now," the former serpent continued, pained.  
  
Aziraphale reached out a hand to offer comfort, when suddenly Crowley pounced, grabbing him by his lapels, pulling him in, while also pushing him further into the sofa cushions. Their wine glasses fell carelessly to the floor.  
  
"I've waited almost six thousand years for you to say something!" The no longer demon yelled, almost sobbing, their noses touching. "Fifty years, it's not enough!"  
  
A look of realization crossed Aziraphale's flushed face. His eyes softened.  
  
"What little time we have left," he replied softly, reaching his hands up to gently cup Crowley's face, "I want to spend it with you."  
  
"Angel," Crowley breathed, blushing fiercely at the warm hands on his cheeks, releasing his grip on the lapels.  
  
"That's not quite accurate anymore, I'm afraid," Aziraphale said with a slight laugh and half smile.  
  
"Doesn’t matter," the former serpent mumbled, moving his hands to hold his angel's face, closing the remaining gap allowing their lips to meet for the first time.  
  
  
  
Somewhere in the gasps for breath in between desperate kisses, Crowley murmured a soft, "I love you too."

  
  
~*~

  
  
"Crowley, I feel- tired," the former angel complained, shifting against the soft sofa cushions, "I don't like it."  
  
"Don't be afraid of it. Sleep. It's not so bad," the once demon replied, shifting slightly so that he could use Aziraphale's chest as a pillow.  
  
Crowley tried to miracle a blanket for them both, momentarily forgetting that he no longer could. No matter, exhaustion had taken hold of their newly human forms, and sleep would soon be upon them whether they liked it or not.  
  
The former serpent allowed a small smile across his face at the sound of his angel snoring softly.


	2. Ducks and Things

From the moment they awoke the next morning, still embracing on the bookshop sofa, time felt like it moved oh so slowly. Things would be simpler now, but not quite so simple.

"I think- I think I need to pee," Crowley frowned, "do you have one of those things humans pee in?"

"A toilet?"

"Yes, that."

"There's one for customers in the back of the shop."

Aziraphale rubbed at his temples. His head ached terribly. They really couldn't keep drinking like this anymore, else they would find themselves in an early grave. He went to the back of the shop to try to locate some coffee.

When the once angel returned, unsuccessful in his search for caffeine, Crowley had reappeared.

"Well that was- a _thing_ ," he said, struggling with the zip on his trousers.

Aziraphale let his eyes linger, perhaps a little too long as Crowley fell on the sofa, feet in the air trying to get his very tight trousers back together.

"Have you- never had one of _those_ before?" Aziraphale asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

The former demon shrugged, as he was finally successful in fitting himself back into his garments.

"Really?" Aziraphale responded with surprise. "Never miracled one? _Never_?"

"And you have?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," the once angel answered slowly, eyes flitting about, "yes."

"What for?" Crowley questioned, sitting up, now eyeing his angel with great interest.

" _Things_ -It was a long time ago!" Aziraphale sputtered, fiddling with his hands. "Late 1800s, I believe."

"You know, I slept through that entire century," the former serpent muttered contemplatively. "And while I was out you went and miracled yourself a-"

"Yes! Right! Spot of breakfast? Let's!" Aziraphale interrupted very quickly, desperately wanting to change the subject, pulling the other man towards the door.

~’*’~

Crowley sat down in the Bentley, reaching over Aziraphale to select a fresh pair of sunglasses from the car's compartment. He mentally thanked his past self for thinking ahead and miracling up a whole pile of them just in case. Hopefully these would be enough to last the rest of his days.

The former demon looked up at his angel to see him beaming with his usual smile.

As soon as the car turned on it started belting out Queen's _Who Wants to Live Forever_.

"That's not funny!" Crowley hissed at the Bentley, slamming a fist against the dash.

~*~

At the small corner cafe, Crowley picked at his food, skeptically, stomach growling loudly. His angel's plate was already empty.

"You have to eat something, my dear," Aziraphale said softly, gently squeezing the other man’s free hand, "Can't very well live off just coffee and wine and tea anymore."

Crowley continued sipping at his coffee. He had eaten food before, sure, but he had always much preferred ingesting things of the liquid variety. That and simply watching Aziraphale eat during their outings and staring at his lips had always been more interesting. He knew what those lips tasted like now.

"I know. I just- takes some getting used to," he replied, absently stroking Aziraphale's hand in his. "Why do humans have to eat so much to live?"

Aziraphale pondered on this and more, glancing at the fluffy clouds rolling by. It was a very nice day out.

"Fancy a walk in the park?"

~’*’~

"Crowley, I'm glad you found something you like to eat, but we bought those for the ducks!"

The former demon was busy stuffing his face with peas as they walked side by side through St. James' Park looking for an open bench.

"Then it's a good thing we bought two bags," Crowley mumbled, mouth still full. "The ducks don't like me anyway," he added after a few chews.

"You're being ridiculous," Aziraphale huffed, taking Crowley's hand- not only because he just wanted to hold his hand, but also to keep the man from eating the rest of the peas while walking.

The former serpent responded by using his free hand to pour his bag of peas straight into his mouth.

Aziraphale sighed, shooting Crowley a sideways glance.

"You know you love it," Crowley grinned, sauntering them over towards a seat that had just opened up.

"Behave, you," Aziraphale said playfully, giving him quick kiss on the cheek as they sat down, "or I'll start doing magic tricks with the remaining peas."

"You wouldn't," Crowley responded, aghast, grasping his chest in an overly dramatic way.

"I would," Aziraphale smiled broadly, leaning in closer.

~*~

A hungry duck, catching a whiff of some delicious peas, perked up and started waddling over to the source of the delightful smell. It walked across the grass and sidewalk, weaving around other park goers and stood in front of a bench where currently a former angel and demon were kissing passionately. The duck could see a bag of peas trapped between them.

A loud 'QUACK' snapped the two apart. They looked down to see a duck staring up at them impatiently.

"Rude." Crowley glared at the bird, crossing his arms.

"Hush, dear, you'll frighten him away," Aziraphale said, reaching to get a handful of peas.

The duck happily ate from his outstretched hand.

"Your turn, dear," Aziraphale said, handing the bag to the other man.

Crowley took a handful of peas, looked the duck straight in the eye, and then ever so slowly put the peas into his own mouth. The duck quacked at him.

"Crowley! Really, now." Aziraphale grasped the former serpent's hand, added some peas, then pushed it over towards the duck. "Try doing it properly this time."

The former serpent rolled his eyes, but froze when the duck actually started to eat from his hand. Why wasn't it running away? He could never get this close before. The duck quacked in a pleased manner in between nibbles. Crowley softened. A smile slowly crept to his lips.

Then the duck bit him, hard.

"Bastard!" Crowley screamed as the duck fled.

Aziraphale tried and failed to contain his laughter.

~’*’~

  
  
The once angel and demon attempted to get a table at the Ritz for lunch, but without the help of a small miracle, there were no tables available. They tried again that evening and unfortunately still had no luck.

"Perhaps we should shop for groceries instead," Aziraphale offered.

"And take them where?" Crowley asked.

Azirphale paused. This was something important they had not yet discussed. They suddenly had a need for a home base, as it were. Food, sleep, shelter-these were no longer optional.

Before his angel could respond, Crowley added, "We can go to my place. Bigger kitchen, plus a proper bed."

Aziraphale simply smiled and nodded.

~*~

The once demon started unpacking their newly purchased groceries into his kitchen while Aziraphale thumbed through a cookbook he was surprised to learn that Crowley actually owned.

Finding a recipe that looked promising, Azirphale started laying out vegetables to chop.

Crowley was rummaging around in the cabinets not long after when he heard a yelp. He rushed over to find his angel bleeding. The knife had slipped and sliced a minor cut into his hand.

"I'm fine, really," the former angel insisted as Crowley fussed over him. Aziraphale had to admit he did feel a little faint. He shouldn't though, as an angel he had witnessed much human blood over the ages, although it had never been his own.

Crowley caught his angel as his legs gave out from under him, setting him down in a kitchen chair.

Aziraphale continued to insist he was fine, but Crowley took off his grey scarf and started to bind his angel's hand with it.

"Oh dear, don't use that," Aziraphale pleaded, "it'll ruin it."

"It's not like I have a first aid kit," Crowley explained, "you're more important anyway."

"Crowley-"

"Don't die before I do."

"It's just a small cut! I'm not going anywhere-"

"I mean it."

Azirphale stared for a moment, then nodded.

"You sit. I'll finish cooking," Crowley insisted.

"But-"

"Angel."

"Alright. Fine."

~’*’~

The former serpent gave up on anything fancy after a short while and opted to make cucumber sandwiches for Aziraphale, since he knew that he liked those.

"This is scrumptious, my dear, really, thank you!"

As for himself, Crowley opted to eat another entire bag of peas.

~*~

Their human stomachs finally full and satisfied, Crowley presented Aziraphale with some pajamas so that he might get comfortable.

"Here, these might fit," the former demon said, not wanting to admit he had actually miracled up a pair just for his angel years ago and hid them away in a back drawer. Just in case such a situation arose.

~’*’~

Crowley's bed was like a vast ocean, and they both settled into their own little pieces of it.

But Aziraphale found that sleep wasn't coming to him as easily this night. He rolled over to find Crowley also awake and staring at him with intense eyes. He could tell that Crowley had a hand down the front of his pajamas, lazily exploring the feel of his new human anatomy.

There was a long silence as they looked into each other in the dark. Crowley felt a tinge of bravery.

"Show me."

"Hm?" Azirphale blinked.

" _Things_ ," Crowley clarified.

"Oh? _Oh_."

Aziraphale let his mind drift back to the 1880s and that membership to the discreet gentleman's club that he thoroughly enjoyed- in more ways than one. He could feel all of his blood suddenly rushing elsewhere.

"Are you quite sure?" He asked at length, blushing intensely.

"Yes," Crowley replied roughly.

At that, Aziraphale crossed the vast ocean, climbing on top of Crowley, the other man grinning up at him the whole way.

~*~

If Crowley had any neighbors, they would likely have filed a noise complaint that night.

"Oh _God!_ "

"If you. Keep. Doing that. She. Might Just. Make. An appearance."


	3. Til Death...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up for a rollercoaster of emotion!

The next day, Aziraphale and Crowley eventually found themselves in St. James' Park sitting on almost the same bench as before. The former demon was leaning far back, lost in thought looking up in the clouds, letting one arm gently drape around his love.

Aziraphale smiled with a happy wiggle and nibbled absently on some leftover cucumber sandwiches. A couple of ducks in front of them fought over the few crumbs that fell to the ground. Crowley glanced over his sunglasses, carefully studying the birds to make sure neither was the same one that bit him the day prior. If he ever saw that duck again they would have _words_.

"Crowley, my dear," the once angel asked cheerfully, "what should we do now?"

There were several possible responses that Aziraphale expected to this question. Perhaps they could try the Ritz again? Or they could visit the bookshop and enjoy a quiet afternoon with tea. Shopping for additional clothes would also be a splendid idea, that or trying to figure out how to do laundry. The very last thing he expected out of the other man's mouth was-

"We could get married," Crowley blurted out, "humans get married."

Aziraphale nearly dropped his cucumber sandwich.

"Are you- proposing?" Aziraphale asked, his heart skipping a beat.

The former serpent's entire face had gone a flustered red, Crowley hadn't thought this far ahead. He knew his angel was looking at him with anticipation, but Crowley couldn't bring himself to face his adoring gaze. He was still waiting for his brain to catch up with his mouth.

Aziraphale reached out and gently took the other man's hand in his. Crowley let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Go on then," the once angel said gently with shining eyes, offering encouragement to his nervous love.

Crowley finally moved, shakily hopping off of the bench and kneeling in front of his angel, taking both of Aziraphale’s hands in his.

"Aziraphale, I-"

"Yes!"

His angel looked at Crowley patiently. Oh right, humans usually give each other rings at this point. Shit. Crowley fished around in his pockets, not finding anything particularly ring-like. He glanced about searchingly, Aziraphale was still beaming at him, widely. Finally, Crowley pulled off his grey scarf, still mildly blood stained from the prior night's minor cooking incident, and reached up, fixing it around Azirphale's neck. In turn, his angel removed his bow tie and loosely tied it around Crowley's neck. They looked a bit ridiculous, but it would do-for now.

A passerby paused at the scene, understanding it for what it was, and snapped a few photos with her phone. She gave the two a moment to finish a loving embrace before approaching and kindly offering to send them the pictures.

~*~

As for the topic of where to have their wedding, Crowley insisted that they get married in an actual church. He figured it would be an extra 'Fuck You' to both heaven and hell. Aziraphale lit up at the idea and agreed-he knew just the place.

~’*’~

The former demon tentatively stepped into the building, still somewhat amazed that he could just waltz right in without having to hop about this time. His human feet didn't burn at all, not even a tickle. Of course, when he spotted the holy water in the back, in almost the same exact place as before, he couldn't resist running over and splashing his hands around in it. Whoever restored the place really did a bang up job.

"Crowley! Really, now, my dear?" Aziraphale scolded in a loud whisper.

"Sorry!" Crowley whispered back. He was not sorry.

Eventually they came to stand in the same spot they both stood in 1941. They could tell where the original floor ended and the new construction began due to the slight discoloration in the stones.

"You saved me and my books, right here."

"I remember."

"Seems so impossibly long ago now, doesn't it?"

"Still feels like yesterday."

~*~

A week later, they were married at that same church and exchanged rings and vows. They invited several humans they knew, including The Them, but only Shadwell and Madame Tracy were able to make it on such short notice. Even though Anathema and Newt were unable to attend, they still sent a wedding gift to the happy couple, a paid holiday in a cottage for rent in a small town to the south near the sea.

Aziraphale and Crowley ended up liking it so much that they bought the place.

Over the next few years they slowly moved into their new home. Crowley let go of his flat eventually, keeping only a few prized items. At first Aziraphale wanted to bring all of his books with him, but ended up settling for his favorite quarter of them due to space limitations in the cottage. He still couldn't bring himself to sell the bookshop though. Aziraphale closed it to business permanently and locked it up, with the intent to check in on it now and again.

~’*’~

Over time, the happy couple slowly began to realize that they were starting to forget things. Small things, here and there. What happened again in that year? Who was that person again? Six thousand years of memories weren't meant to be contained in the human mind, and it was starting to slip away.

Aziraphale suggested to his husband that they try to write it all down. He made a special spot in the cottage's library room for their journals. Each night, after they shared the evening meal, they would sip tea and wine and reminisce through the ages, writing down every detail. Heaven, hell, earth, all of their travels, all of their meetings, even their current life together now.

~*~

Time is moving faster now. Aziraphale's hair turns silver, though he doesn't look that noticeably different. The former angel doesn't mind it. Crowley, on the other hand, starts secretly dying his hair the same red color until it all eventually falls out. His angel knew full well he was doing it, but never said anything to him about it.

~’*’~

The topic of children came up a few times over the years and whether they should adopt.

They never did.

Instead, they themselves were adopted by all the children of the town. There happened to be a school nearby and children would often pass by the cottage on their way home. Sometimes they would play in Crowley's vast outdoor garden. Other times, Aziraphale would welcome them into his library of books and read the children stories-sometime even mixing in tales of history as he and Crowley experienced it.

~*~

It wasn’t long until Aziraphale was unable to walk without the help of a cane. In turn, Crowley's hips gave out and he began using a motorized wheelchair. The former demon took great pleasure in driving it around way too fast and running over anyone who he thought deserved it.

~’*’~

The Bentley sat outside the cottage, covered, having gathered years of dust.

Elsewhere, in a small hospital a few short miles away, Aziraphale leaned over a bed, looking over his frail husband.

"My dear?" Aziraphale asked, tears spiking the corners of his eyes.

"I think- I was dreaming," Crowley finally replied, hoarsely. "Was- was I a snake?"

"Yes, my dear. You were a wily old serpent," he explained wistfully. "And- I was the angel who thwarted your wiles."

"An angel?"

"Do- do you know what tomorrow is?" Aziraphale continued, voice breaking, "It's our thirtieth wedding anniversary."

"I married an angel," Crowley muttered dreamily.

Aziraphale clung to his husband's hand even tighter, not wanting to let go.

Crowley was gone before dawn.

~*~

A few days later Aziraphale got Crowley back in a small ornate vase. There was no funeral, no wake. He kept expecting Crowley to just suddenly reappear-that around every corner he would be there waiting, whole again, to engulf him with those beautiful dark wings. The former angel would not allow himself to think that his love was really truly gone. Forever.

He sat the vase down on the table and looked at Crowley's wedding ring in the palm of his hand. After a few moments, Aziraphale picked it up and slid it onto his finger so that it would be nestled against his own band, and in a way, they would be together again.

Aziraphale sobbed. He couldn't hold it back anymore. He reached out and picked up the framed photo from the day Crowley proposed to him on that bench in St. James’ Park. Aziraphale hugged the picture tightly and wept pitifully.

~’*’~

A decade passed. Aziraphale 'adopted' a small garden snake that lived outside the cottage and spoke to it as though it were Crowley, even though he knew it wasn't. The former angel still imagined that his husband was watching him, from somewhere, somehow. Sometimes he would be flipping through a photo book or reading one of their journals of collected memories when Aziraphale could swear he could feel his love’s presence enveloping him, protecting him.

Unable to make the journey to check on his bookshop any longer he gifted it to a now young woman who used to frequent Aziraphale's cottage library as a child on her way home from school. Over the years he had watched her grow up. She had often mentioned how she dreamed of being a librarian or owning a bookshop. Aziraphale knew she'd take good care of it for him-at least until he could return to it, someday, somehow, he told himself.

Rereading one of his favorite books for the hundredth time, Aziraphale drifted off. His breaths grew less frequent until they stopped completely.

~*~

Aziraphale suddenly stirred, finding himself laying flat on his back on a hard floor made of light, his wings a welcome cushion, stretched out against the surface.

"Crowley?" He asked softly, searchingly, glancing about the bright endless void.

Slowly gathering himself up, he looked himself over, first glancing at his hand to make sure the wedding bands were both still there. They were. Otherwise, his appearance was that of when he first stood guard at the Eastern Gate of Eden. The only thing missing was-

"My flaming sword?" Aziraphale said, suddenly noticing it laying on the ground a few meters from him-distinctly not currently flaming.

"AZIRAPHALE," a voice echoed in the light.

"God?" the angel asked tentatively.

"YES."  
  
"I-I've been trying to reach you."  
  
"I WAS WATCHING."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"YOU DID WELL."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"THERE IS MUCH LEFT FOR YOU TO DO. WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO BACK?"  
  
"My- Crowley- he-" the angel sputtered, looking about everywhere and nowhere.  
  
"YOU HAVE QUESTIONS." God stated, the room beginning to glow.

Aziraphale looked over to see Crowley's motionless form appear from the light. He looked as he did the first night they were sentenced to live as humans.

"My dear!" Aziraphale rushed over, but the body was unresponsive.

"THE GREATER PART OF HIS SOUL IS TRAPPED IN HELL. YOU MUST RETRIEVE HIM."

The angel once again took up his flaming sword which sprang to life.

"How do I get there?"

An edge suddenly appeared in the great void.

"YOU MUST FALL FROM HERE."

"Oh."

"LITERALLY, NOT METAPHORICALLY."

"Ah."

~’*’~

Aziraphale held up his fiery sword in the dark, parting the mass of demons shuffling about in hell. They paid the angel surprisingly little mind save to move out of his way.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale called out, "does anyone know a demon named Crowley?"

"Nobody by that name here," a demon mumbled, resuming shuffling about almost like a zombie.

Aziraphale figured he must have landed in a remote corner of hell. Hopefully he wouldn’t have the misfortune to run into Beelzebub or Dagon or any of the rest that might recognize him.

Just then, the angel noticed a faint blue light glowing in the distance.

"Crowley?" he whispered loudly, walking further into the dark.

The mass of bodies faded as Aziraphale approached the faint light. Suddenly he found himself alone in a dark void on the edge of what looked like the deepest darkest pit. The angel looked down it.

"My dear?"

The glow flashed again, from the bottom of it.

Aziraphale dove off of the side, gliding down in a slow descent. As he approached, the glow started to come into focus. It was a soul in the shape of a great translucent snake.

The angel ran to it, embracing it, but it did not speak. Crowley was not yet whole. Aziraphale carefully wrapped the snake spirit around his body and used his flaming sword to part the darkness above as he flew upward.

~*~

In the blink of an eye, Aziraphale suddenly found himself back in the cottage, surrounded by a lifetime of memories. Crowley's vessel lay still on the floor. The glowing serpentine form leapt from its spot curled around the angel, disappearing into its rightful owner. Crowley's body glowed, his black wings sprang forth and stretched fully, his snake tattoo reappeared, and his serpentine eyes opened.

"Angel?"

"My dear!"

They rushed to each other, embracing tightly, never wanting to ever let go again, their wings enveloping them completely. They tasted each other’s lips for the first time as an angel and a demon, and it burned oh so sweetly.

"What do you remember?" Aziraphale asked breathlessly.

Crowley kissed his angel again in response, "Everything."

"Then," Aziraphale smiled, pulling Crowley's ring from his hand and sliding it back onto his husband's finger, "shall we pick up where we left off?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.


End file.
